What He Never Said
by KiraKira-Kirimi
Summary: Why didn’t Kayashima ever tell Nakatsu that Mizuki was a girl? Rather drabble-ish. Kayashima x Nakatsu .
1. Chapter 1

**What He Never Said **

**Summary: **Why didn't Kayashima ever tell Nakatsu that Mizuki was a girl? Rather drabble-ish. [Kayashima x Nakatsu].

**Rated:** K+

こんにちは皆さん！(I don't know if will actually display that, but I hope so.) Anyways, there's not NEARLY enough fanfiction for Kayashima and Nakatsu, the cutest little couple of Hana Kimi, so I finally wrote this one. It's not much, so if you're looking for yaoi smut, it's not here! Sorry to disappoint. But I hope you like it anyways.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hana Kimi.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why did Kayashima never tell Nakatsu that Mizuki was a girl? To tell the truth, he wasn't quite sure himself. He had known Mizuki was a girl from the first time he had seen her, and when Nakatsu began to question his own sexuality and wrestle with his feelings, why didn't Kayashima alleviate his stress? But if Kayashima told himself there was no rhyme or reason to his madness, he would have been lying. He knew very well why he didn't want to say anything; he just didn't know what gave him the strength or audacity not to keep his silence.

Kayashima knew from the first week he had met Nakatsu that he harbored feelings for the blonde soccer player. Needless to say, he had been surprised to realize it, but he never questioned or doubted himself. It was just part of him, he reasoned. But what did bother him was how he continued to fall for Nakatsu more and more. It was strange, he thought, that at first Nakatsu's chipper attitude had bothered him and twitched at his nerves – he _was _used to solitude, after all – but eventually, he grew to like it so much, that during the school breaks, he actually _ached_ for his roommate's company. His thoughts began to revolve almost solely around one subject, and whenever he heard anyone mention Nakatsu's name, he jumped to attention. He had fallen completely and irrevocably in love.

But during that first year, Kayashima accepted his feelings would never be returned. Nakatsu was unquestionably straight, so Kayashima quickly came to terms with the fact that there would never be anything more than a friendship between them. Instead, he strived to be the best friend he could be to Nakatsu; if he couldn't be his boyfriend, he could be his deepest confidant and caretaker. And frankly, it wasn't hard. His deep feelings for the boy made it enjoyable to listen to Nakatsu, as trivial (and sometimes inaccurate) as his problems were. He just listened, sometimes offering advice, and it wasn't long before he had become something like Nakatsu's dog or diary; tell him everything, because he would never tell another soul.

But then, in their second year, Ashiya Mizuki had arrived. Frankly, Kayashima was surprised that no one else, other than Yuujirou and himself, had noticed she was a girl; she hid her femininity so poorly. But he supposed people just saw what they expected to see. And Nakatsu was no exception; when he developed attractions towards Mizuki, he thought not once of the possibility that Mizuki might be a girl, but turned directly to questioning his sexuality. Kayashima could still remember when Nakatsu had first approached him about that as vividly as if he were living it right then.

Kayashima had been working diligently on his Chemistry homework, but before the door had even opened, all thoughts of ions and molecules were chased from his mind the moment he sensed an all too-familiar aura. But it was unusually pensive, and when Nakatsu entered the room, Kayashima saw worry lines creasing his forehead.

"Okaeri nasai," he greeted calmly, feigning interest in the chemical formulas before him. He did not pry; he had no doubt Nakatsu would tell him what bothered him and look for his advice.

"Tadaima," Nakatsu replied, but on autopilot. Then he sighed. "Kayashima," he said slowly.

Sensing the coming question (though not what it could possibly pertain) Kayashima calmly began to clear his desk; he wasn't going to finish tonight anyway. "Hmm?"

Nakatsu hesitated, not as if debating whether or not to confide, but more like he hadn't quite finished mulling the thoughts in his own head, and wasn't sure how to word his dilemma. "Um . . . do you . . . I mean, could I, do you think, could I be gay?" He looked uncomfortable and rather red as he waited anxiously for a response.

Kayashima was struggling not to hyperventilate. He had always thought it wasn't possible, and that it was the one biggest thing that kept him from ever having a chance with Nakatsu. But could he be saying . . . ? It couldn't be possible, but what if it was . . . ? Hardly daring to believe it, he said slowly: "I don't know. Why?"

"Well," Nakatsu explained, turning redder than before, but at the same time, his aura took on a pink tinge. "I-I think I like Mizuki. Like, a lot."

Kayashima felt as if someone had torn out his heart, trampled it and put it through a paper shredder, before returning it to his chest. Mizuki, of course! He should have known! How could he have been so stupid to think it could ever _possibly_ be him? He felt furious tears prickling behind his eyes, but he had no one to blame but himself.

"Kayashima?" Nakatsu asked apprehensively, the navy blue of confusion and worry darkening in his aura.

Kayashima looked up, miraculously retaining his passive expression. He opened his mouth to tell him it was nothing; Mizuki was a girl, and Nakatsu was just sensing that subconsciously, but the words that left his mouth were very different. "So? You're still you."

Nakatsu smiled uncertainly at this, but his aura was still dark. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I guess." And as he wandered off to the bathroom, Kayashima was left with the sense that he had just been a terrible friend and worse confidant. Guiltily, Kayashima rolled into bed and buried his face in his pillow, not knowing he should cry or scream at himself. Conflicted, he settled for a chocked sob and an angry swipe at his pillow. When Nakatsu returned from the bathroom, Kayashima found that for the first time in a year, he didn't want his roommate's company, and he pretended to be asleep. He didn't truly fall asleep until well past midnight, and even then, he was troubled and restless.

-----------------------------

Did'ja like? If so, REVIEW. I have recently posted about six incomplete fanfictions on , and whichever one gets the most reviews (respectively, as my Harry Potter one will most definitely get the highest number), will be continued. So if you want to see Kayashima and Nakatsu get together, SEND A REVIEW!

Flames are also appreciated, and won't count towards a review. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**What He Never Said **

**Chapter 2**

The days passed by gradually, at a painstaking, mind-numbing pace. And to Kayashima, it felt as if time had never dragged on so slowly. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and hibernate until his emotions had withered and died from old age, but as it was, he was forced to endure each individual moment like another devastating, emotional weapon.

The days dragged on into weeks, and the weeks into months. Little by little, Kayashima found that he could once again look Mizuki steadily in the eye without his heart seeming to break in two once more. A sharp pain still ripped through his chest at the mere mention of her, but it had eventually grown to more bearable levels. Or perhaps, Kayashima had simply grown immune to the hurt.

The memory of that night still lingered darkly in the corner of his mind, and hardly a moment passed in which he didn't think of it once. All when it did, he'd be consumed with self-loathing and fury, pain and disappointment, and a deep sense of desperation . . . of hopelessness. He couldn't forgive himself for not telling Nakatsu the truth, no matter how many days would drag by, and yet, he couldn't find the courage to confess to his unspoken lie.

Courage. The unattainable serum to the root of his pain. He hated himself for his cowardice, but day by day passed, and courage would fail to rear its glorious head. Kayashima would feel his self-loathing growing, festering in the depths of his heart, but he could never find the strength to put the wrong right.

Then Nakatsu had confessed. By some miracle, he'd found the courage Kayashima never could grasp, and showed Mizuki the truth of his feelings. He could have lost her friendship just then, could have lost any semblance of intimacy with her, but he risked everything to tell her the truth. And she'd accepted his feelings, even if she couldn't return them.

It was ironic, really; Nakatsu had opened himself up for every kind of rejection imaginable, but it was Kayashima who struggled with the pain of a heartbreak.

Perhaps it was Nakatsu's bravery, or maybe it was the way his friendship with Mizuki had survived. Or maybe Kayashima was just sick of hating himself so deeply and struggling through each century of a minute. But whatever it was, something finally had bloomed deep in his heart, growing and burning and chasing away the oppressive night of his cowardice.

Since the night that had begun Kayashima's pain of self-hatred, Mizuki had made it clear that she had no intention of letting Nakatsu know the truth of her gender. And if that was her wish, Kayashima had no right to defy it. Regardless, there was still something Nakatsu needed to know.

The sky outside was a soft shade of violet, and the last streaks of red began to fade as the sunlight vanished from view. Kayashima and Nakatsu were working diligently on their homework, notes strewn haphazardly across the floor of their room. Or rather, Kayashima was struggling fruitlessly to concentrate on the words scribbled before him, but Nakatsu simply saw no point in disguising his flagrant procrastination.

Kayashima's gaze began to drift towards Nakatsu once more, enraptured by the way his fingers drummed aimlessly on the desk and by the way his stare leisurely raked the ceiling overhead. He found himself tracing each contour and curve of Nakatsu's back with his eyes, dipping between the folds of the jersey and marveling at how the cloth fell on his body.

Slowly, Kayashima's gaze strayed upwards, lighting gently upon the skin of Nakatsu's neck and the soft tones of the shadows that danced there. Then, he let his eyes drift a margin of an inch higher to brush against Nakatsu's face.

Suddenly, color rushed to Kayashima's cheeks; Nakatsu was watching him curiously, a questioning frown pulling at his lips. "Yes?" he inquired, clearly perplexed.

"Nothing," Kayshima replied, perhaps a little too quickly. He dropped his gaze to his hands, feigning interest in the notes in his lap.

Nakatsu accepted the vague response and returned to stare idly at the remarkably uninteresting walls. But Kayashima's heart was still racing, and mortification was as clear on his face as any emotion really could be. He couldn't believe that he'd been gawking so openly at Nakatsu, completely careless as to let Nakatsu notice his gaze.

More cautiously, Kayashima cast a cursory glance in Nakatsu's direction. Nakatsu's expression was deeply serene, care-free and worriless – but Kayashima knew that in a few hours, he'd be a mess, racing around and trying to finish all his homework in fifteen minutes flat. Regardless, Kayashima couldn't help but to relax as a gentle calm settled over his thoughts as well.

It really wasn't right to keep Nakatsu in the dark. He'd always been perfectly open, never hiding anything from Kayashima – as hard as something might be to say – and Kayashima knew it was only his duty to return the favor. The calm grew in his veins, awakening within him a courage he never knew he had.

"Nakatsu?" he muttered finally, his stomach somewhat clenching in nerves.

Nakatsu's gaze fell to meet his, and a small, friendly smile was alight on his lips. "Hmm?"

Kayashima's heart began to race, pounding erratically in his chest. The old cowardice began to fester once more, but he pushed it back, refusing to let it grip him in self-loathing again. "I . . . I love you."

Nakatsu's eyes widened just a fraction of an inch, surprise gently arching his eyebrows. But it was not at all the explosive reaction Kayashima had anticipated, and he couldn't help but to wonder if Nakatsu had heard him at all.

Then Nakatsu's small smile spread across his face like a beam of light, stretching from ear to ear in a brilliant grin. "I love you, too," he replied. Kayashima's eyes shot upwards, hardly daring to believe he'd heard him correctly. "You've always been like a little brother to me."

Disappointment washed over Kayashima in a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him with pain. A strong burning sensation hit the back of his eyes, and he nodded vaguely as he fought back the tears prickling there.

--------------------------------

**Well, this chapter wasn't so great . . . but I was having writer's block with my other story, and this one is easier to write. Sorry for another sad ending . . . XD **

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi**


	3. Chapter 3

**What He Never Said **

**Chapter 3**

When Nakatsu had said that Kayashima was like a little brother to him, he hadn't been lying. At the time, he couldn't have thought of a better way to describe the bond between them. In the same way one can choose friends but not family, Nakatsu had no doubt that had they not been roomed together, he would have never developed any level of affection for Kayashima – not that he regretted being his roommate, of course. After all, also like family, Kayashima understood him more than most of his own friends did, simply through the intimacy of sharing living quarters.

Moreover, there was an unspoken understanding that Kayashima was Nakatsu's quiet tagalong. He could hardly be said to have much in common with the athletic Sano or peppy Noe, and still, Kayashima had yet to be found spending time with anyone other than one of Nakatsu's friends or acquaintances – and only very rarely with anyone other than Nakatsu himself. Perhaps he didn't quite fit, but through tolerance as Nakatsu's quiet ward, he was eventually accepted as one of them in his own, quirky way.

And nothing could have made Nakatsu happier. Regardless of whether or not he felt uncomfortable of all the ghost and aura talk, he couldn't help but to feel that Kayashima was his firm responsibility. Ever since he had stood up against Kayashima's harassers, Nakatsu found himself constantly looking out for him and concerned for his welfare. Of course, being Nakatsu, it was Kayashima's lonely and friendless state that had always worried him the most, and he probably would have endured being possessed by twenty different ghosts if it meant that Kayashima could find a place to belong. (However, he was still more than a little relieved that it had never come to that.)

But slowly, eventually, his feelings began to morph and transform into something else entirely. He couldn't place exactly when or why – perhaps it was when Mizuki returned to the States, or maybe it was because he suddenly found himself alone in his own, personal dorm room – but regardless, the change was undeniable.

Nakatsu began to find himself aching more and more for his ex-roommate's company as the days passed him by. Countless sleepless nights were spent staring at the blank ceiling as he strained to catch the non-existent sound of Kayashima's soft breathing, and every time he returned from a soccer game not to find Kayashima practicing yoga on the floor of their bedroom, Nakatsu was struck with the sense that something was terribly wrong. The very sight of Kayashima's expressionless gaze was suddenly enough to slap an ear-to-ear grin across his face, and his heart would take to the skies as an uncontrollable wave of giddiness swept him away. Each night, he turned off the light only to the self-assurances that he would see Kayashima the next morning at breakfast.

Granted, Kayashima still attended each of Nakatsu's soccer games and dropped by during every practice he could to bring Nakatsu his water and dinner. If he drifted off in class, Nakatsu could always rely on Kayashima to slide a second copy of his own notes under his nose before he'd even had the chance to ask. And there were plenty of mornings, when, having slept right through his alarm clock, Nakatsu would have been incredibly late for class, had Kayashima not let himself in to drag him out of his covers.

But it wasn't the same.

Life felt more empty than it ever had before he'd come to Osaka. Nostalgia gripped at his heart like a vice, refusing to ever loosen its hold, except in the face of Kayashima's calculating, yet distant expression. Each passing week only served to cause Nakatsu to feel all the more alone, until finally, he'd had enough.

Soccer practice had been cancelled that day due to torrential downpour in the forecast, and sure enough, the heavy drumming of the sheets of rain against the roof reverberated throughout the dorm as Nakatsu nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.

His heart raced in his chest, beating in time with his terrified thoughts, although he wasn't quite sure what it was that he was scared of. Willing himself to calm down, Nakatsu sucked in a deep breath, and hitched up the books hooked under his arm.

He knocked sharply on the door of Kayashima's room.

A few moments passed in utter silence, and Nakatsu was just beginning to consider giving up, when the door slowly cracked to reveal Kayashima's bewildered expression.

"Nakatsu?" he inquired. "What are you doing here?"

"Studying!" Nakatsu chirruped, gesturing pointedly at the books in his arms.

But Kayashima frowned, and his soft, dark eyes surveyed Nakatsu carefully. "You know we're not roommates anymore."

"Well, I thought if you didn't mind . . . like old times, right?"

For a long moment, Kayashima did not reply. Casting him an anxious, sidelong glance, Nakatsu fleetingly noted that he'd never seen so much color in Kayashima's cheeks, but before he could begin to wonder about it, Kayashima let out a sigh.

"Alright," he consented, and pulled the door open wide.

A dazzling grin plastered itself across Nakatsu's face, spreading up to dance in his eyes like a flame. "Thanks, Kayashima!"

That smile took hours to dissipate, for all through that evening, every time Nakatsu glanced up to see Kayashima hunched over his own books mere feet from him, he was struck with the sense that something was terribly _right_.

--------------------------------------

**I apologize to everyone who thought that the story was over . . . I should have made that more clear. No, there's still more to come – at least two more chapters!**

**I found this story is so much more fun to write that my other one. XD So, this one will finish soon. And sorry this chapter is so short.**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	4. Chapter 4

**What He Never Said - Chapter 4**

Nakatsu wasn't quite sure what he was doing. His mouth was ironically dry as he peered intently through the glass of the sweetshop, and it was all he could do from turning on his heel and sprinting away as fast as humanly possible. Although, truthfully, he didn't know why he was stopping himself from doing just that. He simply didn't have any business here, by any logical means.

But of course, he was Nakatsu, and well-known for his irrational actions. Clenching his teeth in firm determination, he chased the doubt from his mind and dramatically strode through the glass double doors.

The heavy scent of sugar and cocoa washed over Nakatsu, enveloping him in a mouth-watering cloud, and he suddenly felt a child-like awe and excitement well up within him at the site of the boxes upon boxes upon rows upon rows of a dentist's worst nightmare. The entirety of the shop seemed to dance with the colorful light of the wrappings, despite the remarkably-depleted shelves and numerous hand-written signs proclaiming: "Sorry! Sold out!"

"Hello, sir!" chirped a cheery employee behind him. "Are you finding everything alright?" Nakatsu turned to see a young girl staring up at him, a bright, friendly grin plastered across her face. She was rather short, although not overly so, and somewhat plump around the waist - understandable of one who might make use of the employee's benefits of working at a candy shop. "May I help you with something?"

"Um," Nakatsu replied, still uncertain as to what he thought he was doing in the store. "I don't know. Maybe . . . could you recommend something?"

"Of course, sir! If you don't mind me asking, is it a Valentine's Day gift?" But before Nakatsu could even open his mouth to reply, she continued: "Most people don't wait until the day of."

Nakatsu felt a light blush brush at his cheeks as he stared at the floor. "I didn't forget," he replied, addressing the unspoken assumption. "I just . . . wasn't sure."

Immediately, the girl's eyes brightened, comprehension gracing her freatures like sunlight. "Perhaps I'm being too nosy, but is it a confession?"

"Yeah," he mumbled to his shoes.

"Then I know what would be perfect!" the girl crowed. She spun on the spot with a sudden burst of alacrity that possitively blinded Nakatsu and called over her shoulder: "Wait here!"

She bounded off, leaving him bemused and completely bewildered in her wake. But the absence of her infectious excitement allowed Nakatsu's old nerves to begin to well up once more, and his eyes darted frantically around the shop as he struggled to control his overwhelming flight response.

---------------------------------------

Several months had passed since that stormy night when Nakatsu and Kayashima had studied together for the first time as friends - and no longer roommates. Since then, not one night had goen by that they didn't spend the evening together.

Even when Nakatsu had fallen deeply ill with the flu, to the point that no one perfectly sane would spend more than a half-hour in his presence, for fear of catching it as well, Kayashima had been completely unfazed. He spent every free moment at Nakatsu's side, keeping him company, and overall making the whole illness a little more bearable. And, after two-and-a-half weeks of stifling congestion and fatigue, amongst countless other torturous symptoms, Nakatsu was quite certain that he would have gone insane without Kayashima's near-constant company.

In the end, Kayashima himself fell victim to the flu as well - a result of aforementioned near-constant company - and Nakatsu could not help but to feel deathly guilty. Kayashima had a much milder case of the sniffels; he didn't even skip so much as a day of school, but Nakatsu fretted over him like a mother hen. Kayashima found himself with a lifetime's supply of Kleenex, a cup of tea or chicken soup each way he turned, and a small audience of amused teachers and peers curious as to what his crazy ex-roommate would do next.

It was during this time that something just clicked within Nakatsu. Perhaps his feeligns for Kayashima had long surpassed that of the brotherly, but he had yet to quite place his finger on it. To Nakatsu, nothing had changed - in his mind, he was nothing more than nostalgic, and he was simply missing the constant company he'd had the past two years. It didn't matter that he couldn't explain why everything about Kayashima was suddenly so intriguing to him, or why time with Sekime, Noe, or Sano simply didn't hold the same weight. Nakatsu just refused to linger on such incriminating evidence; it was completely subconscious, but he was in denial.

By all rational reasoning, the charade of apathy should have continued for years without faltering. Perhaps decades - or maybe Nakatsu wouldn't find the courage to break through the pretense of adoptive brotherhood until he was on his very deathbed. There was no saying how long it would have continued, had Kayashima - however unintentionally - not cut the lie short the way he had.

It was late in Kayashima's illness, and he all but gotten completely over his symptoms. His nose glowed somewhat, red with irritation, and he still couldn't smother all of his sneezes, but his eyes were clearer than they'd been in a week; at this point, it was hardly more than a light cold.

Nakatsu lounged placidly at the side of the bed, watching Kayashima practice various yoga stretches and poses. Earlier, he'd tried to talk him out of it, insisting that bed rest was the best option, but without missing a beat, Kayashima had calmly replied that yoga was a proven medicinal remedy. And Nakatsu could not argue that Kayashima _had _overcome the greater part of sickness in a remarkably short time. Reduced to sitting idly by, Nakatsu found he simply could not tear his gaze away as the hour dragged - or, rather, flew - by.

Kayashima was an elegant tangle of limbs; his expression was calm and serene, even as his ankles brushed against his ear. Although quite frankly, Nakatsu couldn't be sure which foot belonged to which leg. A small smile brushed at his lips as the thought crossed his mind that there probably wasn't anyone more flexible in all of Osaka - or in St. Blossom's for that matter. the idea was oddly uplifting.

Nakatsu's gaze flit upwards, and he felt his heart leap to his throat as he found Kayashima watching him with his dark, calculating eyes. His expression could only be described as perplexed - well, as perplexed as Kayashima's expression ever seemed to become.

"What?" Nakatsu asked, feeling his heart hop and leap almost eight inches higher than where it should be.

"Your aura," Kayashima slowly replied. "It's pink. Are you thinking about Mizuki again?"

And there it was, laid before him as surely as the moon hung in the sky. When Mizuki had come to the school, Nakatsu had been completely smitten with her: obsessed with what she did, what she thought of him, and if there ever was any hope of a _them_. He'd loved her company more than he had Sano's, Sekime's, or Noe's, and seemed to crave her friendship as if it were a drug. He was always acutely concerned for her safety and welfare, and whenever their eyes met, his heart would always leap to his throat, pounding erratically.

But now, Mizuki was on almost the opposite side of the planet, and the emotions were still there. Mizuki wouldn't be at breakfast, and yet, Nakatsu's excitement of going - and not for the food - was the only thing that could drage him out of bed in the morning without physical force. Of course, if it was one of those not-so-rare occasions that Kayashima had to take it into his own hands to get Nakatsu up, the novelty of breakfast evaporated the moment Nakatsu opened his eyes. In fact, thoughts of Mizuki barely crossed his mind three times a day - as they might for any close friend he missed.

But the truth was: his heart was flying in a way he'd always assosciated with Mizuki, and she was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. Of course, Nakatsu knew _exactly _what - or who - _had_ been on his mind in her place. The realization hit him like a brick wall, and he felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut.

"Nakatsu?"

Kayashima was staring at him unblinkingly, his mouth set in a vaguely-concerned frown. Nakatsu felt a delicate blush begin to creep up his cheeks, and he frevently thanked God that Kayashima could only read auras, and not minds.

"Yeah?" he replied, in the most nonchalant tone he could muster.

"I asked you if you were thinking about Mizuki."

The very statement was enough to send Nakatsu's thoughts into turmoil, and it was all he could do to not be swept away by the chaos. He swallowed, plastering a wavering grin across his features. "Oh yeah," Nakatsu fibbed. "I was. But I'm okay."

Kayashima did not reply.

"I mean, I was just wondering what she was doing right now . . ." Great, now he was rambling. "What time is it in the States?"

For a long moment, Kayashima was silent, his dark gaze carefully tracing Nakatsu's expression. Nakatsu was struck with an uncomfortable sensation akin to that of being dissected and scrutinized under a microscope, and he couldn't have been more grateful when Kayashima finally answered: "I don't know."

It was a simple response, but the air was finally able to rush back into his lungs. Relief washed over his features, and his faltering smile was suddenly strong and unwavering. In that one sentence, Kayashima had unwittingly assured him that he had no suspicions, that he could not suspect the truth. Nakatsu let out a shaky laugh.

"You should write to her."

"Huh?" he replied, alreadying having forgotten his lie. "What?'

"Write to Mizuki. Put your mind at rest."

Nakatsu's gaze sought out Kayashima's, and he felt his cheeks glow warm. Kayashima's nose quivered, clearly discomforted by his persistent congestion, but his eyes were intently trained on Nakatsu with undivided concentration. Nakatsu dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yeah," he replied, somehow managing to find the words over his useless lump of a tongue. "I think I'll do that. Thanks."

He forced himself to look up, to meet Kayashima's eyes - but the moment he did so, he immediately regretted it. His heart took off like a bullet, fluttering frantically as it struggled not to simply stop dead. His breath deserted his lungs, and he very nearly had an out-of-body experience right then and there. It was as if his unspoken realization had increased his feelings tenfold, to the point that his nerves could just not take the strain.

Nakatsu leapt up off the bed, as if bitten by a poisonous snake. It was all he could to supress the desperation and anxiety welling within him; the last thing he needed was for Kayashima to catch glimpse of an emotion better kept hidden. Without even pausing to look Kayashima in the eye - he'd learned better to do _that_ again - Nakatsu hastily uttered a "good night" and raced from the room.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Nakatsu had slumped against the wall, all energy utterly spent. Fatigue gripped his limbs and shock clutched at his mind, and he could not stop his knees from buckling under the pressure. As he slid to the floor, one, single, numb thought echoed in his mind:

_I like Kayashima. I like Kayashima. I like Kayashima . . ._

---------------------------------------

That had been one month ago.

If he'd thought accepting the truth had been hard when he'd harbored feelings Mizuki, it was nothing compared to the struggle he faced now. He couldn't bear to let thoughts of Kayashima flit through his mind, for fear of how his heart might react; he couldn't say the 'g' word, even to himself. Perhaps it should have been easier for him, having already accepted his attraction to a peer once before, but somehow, he was even less willing than he'd been back then. It might be because he'd gone through so much the first time, only to discover that it was for naught, as Mizuki was a girl anyways, and he didn't want to deal with that again. Not that he thought there was any chance that Kayashima might be a girl; they'd been roommates for two years, and Kayashima hadn't been exactly uncomfortable to change in front of him. The thought brought a soft flush to Nakatsu's cheeks.

But of course, Nakatsu couldn't deny that he was frightened. Granted, Mizuki had been a great person and a wonderful friend, but there was only so much he could lose if she hadn't accepted - or rather, tolerated - him and his feelings. Mizuki didn't bring his dinner to his soccer games; Mizuki didn't keep his schedule in check. And Mizuki had never stayed up with him as he coughed his heart out night after night. No, it wasn't her fault, but the fact remained that Kayashima _had_ done all that, and Nakatsu couldn't bear to lose it. He had come to rely heavily on Kayashima's quiet - but compassionate - attention, almost more than than he had once relied on his own mother's. For who else could so patiently listen to his senseless rambles and problems without so much as a dazed look?

But it was fo that very reason that Kayashima deserved to know the truth. Perhaps Nakatsu would hurt in the process, but Kayashima had done so much for him in the past that it was only right he be told. Even if he chose not to accept Nakatsu's feelings, at least it would be out there and not hidden away.

If only that thought would help quell Nakatsu's nerves.

By each passing minute, the urge to bolt from the candy shop like a terrified rabbit clutched tighter and tighter at his chest, and he only surpressed it with the most heroic of efforts. He'd come this far already; he knew he'd never forgive himself if he backed out now. But the exit's handle seemed to disagree as it gleamed invitingly under the light of the shop's flourescent bulbs.

Maybe it wasn't the right time anyway . . .

"Here it is! Oh, do you have to go now?" The chipper employee had returned, just in time to put a premature end to Nakatsu's race for freedom.

He froze, eyes wide as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And in a way, he had; Nakatsu hastily ripped his hand from the door knob and thrust it deep into his pockeet. "Uh, no. I'm just . . . late for something. But if you make it it quick -,"

"Oh of course! Here." Brightening, the girl pushed a small object into his hands. "This is perfect for confessions."

Nakatsu glanced down to where his palms framed a simple, but gorgeous, candy box barely four inches across. The lid was a dull gold, fitted perfectly over the ink-black bottom, and fasted on by a shadow of velvety ribbon. In the top right corner, Nakatsu's finger brushed the edge of a small etching - a willowy branch laden with cherry blossoms and blackened with brushstrokes of the ribbon's essense. Below the flowers flowed the elegant lettering: _More than just friends?_

"It's sweet, but not overly-flamboyant," the girl continued, sounding remarkably proud of herself. "And best of all, there's almost no way for the words to be misinterpreted, so you won't need to do any awkward explaining."

Nakatsu let his gaze slide up to hers, his eyes shining with gratitude and surpressed excitement. A wry, half-smile twisted at his lips, but even without his usual ear-to-ear grin, the previous anxieties were drowned out by the overwhelming hope etched in his features. The girl smiled, not needing words to understand perfectly.

"I'll ring it up for you."

---------------------------------------

**I'm so mad at myself; I had this finished a while ago, but I forgot to type it up! I was wondering why no one was commenting on what happened in this chapter, until I decided to Live Preview the story. Stupid, scatter-brained me.**

**Anyways, I hope you guys liked the new format for the chapter (doesn't start out with reflections!) and the extra length. I should learn to be more consistent.**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi **


	5. Chapter 5

**What He Never Said – Chapter 5**

By the time Nakatsu returned to his dorm, the snow was already falling steadily, like time puffs of cotton drifting through the sky. The windows were glazed by frost, and his breath hung in the air as he trudged through the snow-dusted sidewalks. Coupled with the soft, bluish light streaming from the streetlamps and the paper hearts that hung in the windows of proud boyfriends, it was the perfect Valentine's Day evening. The thought didn't fail to hearten Nakatsu, lending a spring to his weary, uncertain step.

The chocolates were burning a hole in his coat pocket, and Nakatsu felt his heart skip each time they knocked against his hip. After a year of oppressed feelings – whether or not he'd been fully aware of them – he would be liberated tonight. Of course, the consequences would remain to be seen, but Nakatsu intended to be as optimistic as possible; if he wasn't he knew he had no hope of finally telling Kayashima. His courage would simply fail him, and he doubted it would ever really return.

The warmth of the dorm stung Nakatsu's winter-nipped cheeks as he hastened through the front door, bringing a flurry of soft flakes with him. And from a cozy corner of the dorm's lounge, Noe called out a chipper greeting, clearly eager to gloat about all his Valentine's Day conquests with the feigned pretense of friendly confidence. But Nakatsu didn't hear. He'd already swept from the room with a steely-eyed gaze, wrapped up deeply in his characteristic single-mindedness, and left Noe, bemused and a little bit stung, in his wake.

Nakatsu dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Kayashima was at the top of the stairs: Kayashima and everything he stood for. Nakatsu's heart was fluttering helplessly, his nerves frayed by anxiety, even as he clenched his teeth in rigid determination, and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. Nakatsu could not – _would _not – think of all he was risking. He wouldn't let fear grip him, take him hostage into despicable cowardice and loneliness. He knew he could confess, and do so with grace – after all, he'd done just that with Mizuki, and despite anything he may have said earlier, the necessary courage was essentially the same.

He'd never lost that courage, and now he let it fill him, flowing through his veins with the self-assuredness of bravado and pride. He was _Nakatsu_; he was unstoppable, shameless, and wild. And a little _affection_ was not about to change that – no, he was leaving fear de amour to the girls, thank you very much. Gay or not, Nakatsu was no _girl_, and he sure as heck wasn't scared. Granted, his heart was racing erratically in his chest, but that from exhilaration, not fear.

When it came to lying to one's self, Nakatsu was quite the professional.

Nakatsu didn't knock to announce his presence prior to opening the door; the rattle of the door knob was enough warning for Kayashima, and, after all, with all the time he spent in Kayashima's room anyway, they could have very well been roommates all over again. His right hand went to his pocket, half assuring himself it was still there, and half reminding himself that he couldn't back out now. The shape of the box felt incriminating against his touch, and for a horrible, sickening moment, he was convinced everyone had seen it; everyone had known who it was for. But that was silly; even if anyone _had _seen it, they would have simply thought it from a girlfriend or admirer. No one would even consider that it might be for another boy – _Kayashima_ nonetheless! He drank in the logic hungrily, willing it to cool his anxieties and turbulent thoughts. _No one _need know – that is, no one save Kayashima.

At the moment, Kayashima lay upon the hardwood floor of his room, peering inquisitively up at Nakatsu from his intricate and oddly-intriguing yoga position. Had Nakatsu attempted anything similar, he would have snapped a number of rigid bones, but Kayashima could have been napping for all the strain in his face. Rather, the curiosity alight in his eyes asked without words where Nakatsu had been, and – somewhat accusingly – if he'd done his homework. Kayashima knew full-well that Nakatsu did not have a girlfriend, and he supposed by the nervous aura swarming about him that Nakatsu had been up to no good. Of course, he'd interpreted incorrectly, but how was he to have guessed the truth? In Kayashima's mind, that possibility had been closed months ago.

But Nakatsu said nothing to refute the chastisement of Kayashima's gaze. In a gesture far stronger, yet far more simplistic, than what words could have ever said, he withdrew the chocolates from his pocket.

Kayashima's reproving expression evaporated, to be replaced by a numbing bewilderment. He unwound himself slowly, not once letting his eyes stray from the box in Nakatsu's hand as his legs returned to their right place below him. He dared not think for a moment that the chocolates were for him; perhaps a young girl from St. Blossom's had confessed to Nakatsu, had convinced him to take her out to dinner – that would explain the tardiness. But the box was unopened, and the label was distinct:

_To: Kayashima Taiki_

_From: Nakatsu Shuichi_

Nakatsu's cheeks were flushed, an uncertain smile quirking at the corners of his lips. And before Kayashima could inquire why he was giving him this, if he'd given any to Sekime, Noe, or Sano, Nakatsu's trembling thumb readjusted itself in an all too-obvious attempt to conceal its quivering. In the process, however, it unveiled the elegant script etched under the black boughs of cover's cherry tree.

_More than just friends?_

Kayashima's breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed, hardly daring to believe his own eyes. He could feel his aura twisting into violent shades of passionate violet and yellow, and his heart was thumping excitedly – unbeknownst to him, in sync with Nakatsu's. It seemed that what he had told himself would never happen, would never be more than a daydream, was suddenly unfurling itself before his very eyes, despite all logical argument. Kayashima felt unexpectedly weak at his knees, and it was all he could do to stay upright as he staggered uncertainly closer.

Nakatsu was watching him nervously, desperately trying to calculate Kayashima's expression. His smile was faltering, and he subconsciously took a step back as Kayashima approached. A thousand thoughts were racing through his mind: perhaps that shock was really fear in his eyes, or maybe he was confusing disbelief with disgust. Kayashima might be about to raise his voice for the first time since Nakatsu met him, might be about to throw Nakatsu furiously from his room with demand that he never return.

But Kayashima did not yell; he didn't slap him or turn a cold shoulder. Nakatsu felt his heart leap to his throat as Kayashima's warm hands covered his, gently easing the box of chocolates out of his grasp. And suddenly, he was struck with the irrelevant, irrational thought that perhaps he should have made the chocolates from scratch, or even chosen a more old-fashioned sweet – but he didn't have time to do his homework, let alone make anything from scratch. Swallowing heavily, Nakatsu forced himself to glance up and meet Kayashima's gaze.

There was no fear in his expression, no disgust, anger, or hate. There was shock, yes, but it was gentle and benevolent, and Nakatsu felt himself slowly beginning to calm as he stared into Kayashima's wide, dark eyes. Nakatsu could read a thousand questions in his face, each brimming with suppressed urgency, but not one was malicious or spiteful. And for once, he could see clearly; Kayashima's eyes were warm with compassion and empathy, shining with daring hope. Nakatsu felt his own eyes widen; to the untrained eye, Kayashima was as emotionless as always, lips frozen in perpetual apathy, but Nakatsu could read him like a book.

And somehow, Kayashima _knew _he could. Not once did he open his mouth, but simply let his countless questions race across his minimal expression to be comprehended by Nakatsu and Nakatsu alone.

Nakatsu's stomach was alive with butterflies, and no words would spring form his slips. Thankfully, however, only once response could truly answer every question alight in Kayashima's expressionless gaze: he nodded.

Yes, the chocolates were for him. Yes, it wasn't a joke. Yes, he meant the words engraved in the corner. And yes, he cared for Kayashima more deeply than Kayashima had ever known.

Suddenly, anyone could read Kayashima. A corner of his lip twitched, so slight that Nakatsu couldn't be sure that it'd been there at all. And before he could begin to wonder, it twitched again, spreading across Kayashima's expression into a brilliant grin no one had ever imagined him capable of. Granted, it was still slight, secretive even, and anyone who didn't know Kayashima would have been appalled at his apparent lack of emotion, but to Nakatsu, it was radiant.

Kayashima stepped forward, his arms slowly wrapping themselves around Nakatsu's middle. The chocolates were set aside, and then he gently leaned close, resting his head on Nakatsu's broad chest. Kayashima let out a soft sigh, warm in his contentment, and turned his aura inwards, filling him body and soul. His dreams had become a reality.

For a long moment, Nakatsu didn't move, simply feeling Kayashima press against him as his own heart beat rhythmically in his chest. He'd never imagined such a tender, caring reaction, never thought that Kayashima might return his feelings. But there was no mistaking the affection in that sigh or the joy in his smile. Nakatsu's hands came up, returning the gentle embrace.

And the two simply stood there, each basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Snow drifted past the window outside, and young, love-struck boys whispered tales of their romances in the warm grasp of Valentine's Day, but Nakatsu and Kayashima's world was still. No words were spoken – but then again, they didn't need to. Their touch told everything of what he never said.

FIN.

**And here you have the end of my first multi-chapter story. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed – and reminded me I still had this story to complete if I ever got tired of my main one! I couldn't have done it without you guys.**

**Anyways, this is your last chance to give me feedback, so don't hold back on anything! And if you don't mind, there are a few questions in particular I would like you to answer.**

**1.) Rate the overall story 1-10.**

**2.) What was your favorite aspect (technique as well as events)?**

**3.) What was your least favorite aspect (technique as well as events)?**

**4.) What would you have done differently?**

**5.) Any advice for the future?**

**Thanks a million!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


End file.
